


Madame President

by Authorexx



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, In which Alex Cabot goes absolutely feral, Mental Breakdown, Politician!Alex, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authorexx/pseuds/Authorexx
Summary: TW: mental breakdown; unintentional self harm.  This is a (very self-indulgent) AU where Alex decides to go into politics (and becomes President of the United States) instead of continuing with SVU, but her (not public) relationship with Olivia is still maintained despite her coverup marriage to a man (Conviction's Jim Steele).  I have so much more of this written, but the rest of it is far too convoluted (as you can see from all these parenthetical passages), so I decided to post this as a standalone piece.  It was born out of my desire to have Alex go a little feral... which is probably bad, but here we are.  -Ax
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Alexandra Cabot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Madame President

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mental breakdown; unintentional self harm. This is a (very self-indulgent) AU where Alex decides to go into politics (and becomes President of the United States) instead of continuing with SVU, but her (not public) relationship with Olivia is still maintained despite her coverup marriage to a man (Conviction's Jim Steele). I have so much more of this written, but the rest of it is far too convoluted (as you can see from all these parenthetical passages), so I decided to post this as a standalone piece. It was born out of my desire to have Alex go a little feral... which is probably bad, but here we are. -Ax

“I would like to thank my family—my husband James, for his support; my incomparable running mate, Rafael Barba; and my closest friends in my home of New York and beyond… thank you all so much. I am humbled and honored to be your President-Elect.” Nothing about this moment felt real; Alex had dreamed of this for years—this was the light at the end of the tunnel; the culmination of her life’s work. The sounds of the room bounced around her as the balloons and confetti cascaded from the ceiling. She turned, giving James a chaste kiss on the cheek, performing the same rehearsed smile and wave from every appearance she’d made in her political career.

The news was still settling on Alex’s shoulders as she walked off the stage, hand in hand with James. Her phone began buzzing in her pocket. “I’ll be right back,” she said, slipping away from the gaggle of handlers, finding a quiet corner to be alone. A tap of the screen, and she held the phone to her ear, breaking into a genuine grin. “Olivia, hey. I know; I know, thank you. Can… we meet for dinner? Your place? I’ll bring some champagne to celebrate.”

The dinner had gone late into the night. They had spent the evening talking, drinking champagne and smiling; the same as any date night. Olivia was beaming with pride and Alex was practically glowing as she sat across from her. As the conversation turned to more current matters, Alex hesitated to speak for the first time all night.

“I… I will _never_ deny that you’re valuable, baby,” Alex reached across the table, placing a hand on Olivia’s, “you do important work, Liv, just—”

“You just want me all to yourself.” Olivia sighed, anticipating the rest of her sentence.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I do.” Alex nodded, breaking eye contact with her lover. “But… wouldn’t you like to?” Her eyes pleaded with Olivia as she raised her gaze, adjusting her glasses. “Things are looking really good for me. They all said that I had a shot at getting elected.”

Another sigh from Olivia, deeper this time, shaking her head at the thought. “And how exactly would your career fare if the public found out that the prestigious President-Elect Alexandra Cabot-Steele was actually sleeping with a woman and _not_ her so-called husband?”

Alex pulled her hand away, feeling her heart sink. “It’s—Liv, I could—you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing; I could get you a house in D.C., a car, anything you wanted—” She was grasping at straws, and Olivia saw it written on her face, her brows coming together as her eyes widened in panic.

 _“Alex.”_ Olivia locked eyes with Alex, and she knew this was a warning. “You and I both know it’s too much of a risk. And you know I could never leave the squad. They need me too, Alex.” A long pause hung in the air. “You know we can’t do this.”

Alex swallowed hard, lowering her eyes once more as she set her jaw. “I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Doesn’t mean I can’t be selfish for once.” Her eyes began to sting and she blinked rapidly, looking to the ceiling to fight back her tears before settling back on Olivia. “I’ll always want you.”

Olivia’s shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “I’m tired of hiding, Alex; you can’t have it both ways. It’s me or… whatever this life of yours is.” Her eyes were full of tears as she looked up at Alex, her throat tightening, wary of the other woman’s answer. “Make a choice.”

“You know… you know I can’t, Liv,” Alex whispered, her voice wavering. “I can’t.”

\--

Cabernet always reminded Alex of Olivia. She’d taken to drinking alone; claimed it helped her clear her head, all but chasing James out of the house. She’d had a bottle to herself, emptying it with a final, full glass in her hand. Tonight, her head was anything _but_ clear as the conversation between her and Olivia swirled in her mind over and over: “You want me all to yourself,” “how would your career fare…” and the worst of all—“you know we can’t do this.” Olivia’s voice rang in her ears, louder and louder as she tipped the glass back, choking down the bitter wine to drown out the sound of her lover’s voice asking her to “make a choice” over and over, but finishing this glass wasn’t enough to make her quiet. The sound became all she could hear, a deafening roar of “ _no, Alex, we can’t do this._ ” The glass was now empty and Alex shook with rage, feeling the same hot sting of tears behind her eyes as her vision went red.

The wine glass was lobbed at the wall, exploding into a million shards as she screamed, coming unhinged. She turned and found her next target—a framed photograph of the “happy couple” prescribed by her party. It was a sham of a marriage; she knew it from the start. Hot tears ran down her face as she threw it to the ground, a shout punctuating her efforts as she stomped her foot into the photograph, cracking the glass further. The wedding album sat on the coffee table nearby, silently mocking her. She lunged at it, throwing it open and ripping pages out in a frenzy, seeing the emptiness behind her smile in a wedding dress she reluctantly chose, standing beside a man she never loved. She whirled around to the fireplace and tossed the torn photographs inside, watching the woman in the photos burn, her oddly placid face illuminated in tones of red and orange as the pictures turned to ash. She continued her path of destruction through the hallway and into the bedroom, tearing flowers from their vases and sending both to the wall with a weak cry, watching them shatter and fall with satisfaction. Finally, she was face to face with the mirror on her wall—and there was that dead-eyed woman again. She lifted the mirror from the space on the wall, sending it crashing to the floor in a shower of glass and sound, her scream joining the cacophony, _“Liar!”_ Now she was above the mirror, her voice growing hysterical as she drove her fists into the reflection repeatedly. “I hate you,” she shrieked, _“I hate you!”_ The room suddenly grew silent as she relented, panting like a dog with her efforts, satisfied with the decimation of the hollow woman in the mirror, her body trembling with the release of energy.

Finally, Alex crumpled beside her bed, collapsing in a string of sobs. Was this what she’d wanted? Once upon a time, it was… but that was long before she had fallen for Olivia. Her hands were stained with wine—or was it blood? It didn’t matter. Her body convulsed with sobs as she rocked herself gently, tears streaming down her face, creating inky rivulets of dark mascara that stained her cheeks. This had been her dream, but it was now her waking nightmare.


End file.
